


Logan does not get sick (until he does)

by Hawkk_I



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Barista Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is Extra, Fluff, Gen, Modern Era, No it’s not the coronavirus, Roommates, Scientist Logic | Logan Sanders, Sick Logic | Logan Sanders, Sickfic, Theater Nerd Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Twelfth Night References, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:53:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24061657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkk_I/pseuds/Hawkk_I
Summary: “Logan does not get sick.Or at least, he never gets anything more than the common cold.He’s fine, and it’s frustrating that his roommates don’t believe it.His incessant coughing and sneezing and chills- it’ll pass with time, he's sure.”ORIn which the others take care of their resident nerd.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton, Logic | Logan Sanders & Everyone
Comments: 11
Kudos: 116





	Logan does not get sick (until he does)

Logan does not get sick.

Or at least, he never gets anything more than the common cold.

He’s fine, and it’s frustrating that his roommates don’t believe it.

His incessant coughing and sneezing and chills- it’ll pass with time, he's sure.

Virgil stared him down, “You know for someone who hammers down the importance of logic, you gotta admit that you’re not being very logical,” he remarked, pulling at his sleeves absentmindedly.

Logan wiped his runny nose with a tissue. He sighed and sat down at the table. Throwing the balled up tissue into the bin in the corner, he turned towards Virgil. “Virgil, I am _not_ sick, or at least _barely_ ,” he argued, just as he sneezed again (into his elbow of course).

Before Virgil could retort, Patton skipped into the dinning room, holding a stack of pancakes. “Morning kiddos!” he greeted cheerfully, placing the plate of pancakes onto the table. Patton was wearing his ridiculous, _kiss the cook_ apron, along with his signature bright smile, one that never failed to blind Logan.

“Good morning Patton,” Logan said, his voice getting raspy towards the end. He cleared his throat and reached over to pour himself a glass of water.

Patton frowned as he seated himself at the table, “Still sick there Lo’?” he asked, grabbing one of the pancakes with his fork.

“For the last time, I am _not_ sick,” grumbled Logan, also reaching for the freshly made pancakes.

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Forget it Patton, I swear he’s as stubborn as Roman sometimes.”

“Did someone say, _Roman_?” the aforementioned man singsonged, bursting into the room. He sent a dazzling grin to everyone. Roman was in costume, his hair and light makeup tailored to fit his role. He’d started playing at the community theatre and at the moment, he was Sebastian from the Twelfth Night, which explained the costume.

“Hi Roman!” Patton said enthusiastically, “Do you have rehearsal today?” he queried, slathering maple syrup onto his pancake generously.

Roman replied with a woeful sigh, “I thought I did, got ready and everything- but, alas, the theatre is temporarily closed due to some, and I quote, ‘unplanned, emergency maintenance’,” he fanned his face with his hand dramatically.

Logan lifted an eyebrow, “I suppose you’ll change then?” he asked quietly—for fear that he would start coughing again— and eyeing Roman.

Roman plopped down on one of the chairs and snatched a pancake, rolling it and eating it plain, “Hmm… I don’t feel like changing. Oh well, I guess it’ll be good practice, I can really get into my character this way,” he shrugged, taking a large bite out of the pancake.

Logan opened his mouth to say something, but his throat refused to cooperate and instead, he was thrown into another of his coughing fits. His throat burned as he coughed, and he could feel his eyes watering. After what felt like forever, (though Logan’s logical side could tell him it was barely a few minutes) he stopped, breathing shakily. A glass of water was pushed towards him. He took it gratefully, drowning it down in a few sips. He wiped his mouth and looked up.

His three friends looked at him with varying levels of concern. Patton leaned over the table to place a hand on Logan’s forehead, “You’re burning up Lo', maybe you should go rest in bed a bit.”

Virgil nodded, “You really don’t look too good man.”

“I appreciate your concern but-“ he seized up, an incoming cough tickled his throat— he managed to hold it back.

“Your ‘cold’ is really persisting,” Roman pointed out, observing him closely.

“Logan,” Patton ordered in a firm but gentle voice. Logan swallowed. “I heard you working all night— you need a break anyway, sick or not. You, more than anyone should know how important sleep is,” Patton tried to persuade, knowing Logan would continue to deny his obvious sickness.

Logan sighed, “Alright Patton, I’ll take a brief break. But after that, I need to get back to work. I can’t be slacking off now,” he croaked.

Logan was just recently hired as a junior scientist at the Astronomy Research Facility, slowly but surely making his way up the ranks. Logan was only 24, but it was his hard work that managed to get him there so quickly. But— he was pulling many sleepless nights just to work, and, honestly he couldn’t really remember the last night he got enough sleep.

“Just get some more sleep Specs,” Roman urged kindly.

Logan breathed in, “Right.” He stood up, picked up his empty mug, and headed for his room, trudging sluggishly.

After the brief trip, Logan entered his room and threw himself unceremoniously onto his bed. He shifted so he could put down his mug on his bedside table, before slipping into his bed and pulling the dark blue comforters over him. Logan couldn’t even be bothered to take off his glasses, feeling his eyes droop. He nuzzled into the soft bed sheets and let his consciousness drift away, as sleep came to him.

[...]

When Logan woke up, his throat hurt like hell, his nose was blocked, and his entire body felt like it was on fire. He scrunched his eyes closed as he felt a chill. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as coughing wracked his body.

Logan didn’t even notice someone had taken his glasses off.

There was a knock at the door.

Logan couldn’t speak, his throat tightening with pain. The door opened slowly, revealing Patton holding a cup. “Hey Lo’, how you’re you feeling?” he asked, sitting by Logan’s bed and putting down the cup.

“Like crap,” was all Logan managed to groan.

Patton shook his head sympathetically, "I know buddy," he took the cup again, "I have some Ibuprofen for you."

Logan sat up with difficulty and accepted the meds, "To lower the fever," he guessed weakly.

Patton smiled, watching Logan take the pill, "Good to know you haven't lost your thinking skills," he tapped Logan's temple playfully.

A small smile tugged at Logan's lips, "Well, I need to stay sharp," he shrugged.

Patton hummed. He stood up, walked to the windows, and drew the white curtains open, the sunlight filtering through. He turned back to Logan, "I have to go to work, but should I bring you coffee after my shift is over?"

Patton was a part-time barista at the coffee shop down the street, and he usually brought back coffee for his roommates after work.

"Yes, thank you Patton," Logan thanked him hoarsely.

Patton smiled again and headed for the door. "Get some more rest Logan," Patton said, before slipping out the room.

Logan laid back down, another sigh escaping his mouth. The medicine seemed to be kicking in, the pain in his throat easing. Logan thought about his work, _I'm going to be behind everything._ He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the antsy feeling in him, the itch to get up and… do something.

[...]

When Roman entered his room, Logan was staring at the ceiling, arms crossed over his chest.

"Hello there, I've got uhhh a painkiller delivery for Mister…" Roman pretended to read the bottle, "Huge… Nerd? Huge Nerd?" he called out teasingly.

Logan rolled his eyes, "Hilarious Roman," he deadpanned. Roman laughed warmly, handing the bottle to Logan.

"So… how are you?" Roman drawled, tapping his knees.

Logan sat up, "I'm alright Roman," that was a lie, everything still hurt horribly, but Logan itched to get back to work, "I think I've rested enough."

Roman looked at him suspiciously, "Uh Huh," he leaned forward, feeling Logan's forehead, "Logan you're still really warm," he muttered.

"Roman…" Logan trailed off with a pleading tone.

Roman sat at Logan's side, "Come on Teach, it's only been a few hours, you can't be already healed."

Logan groaned, running his hand through his hair. Roman patted his shoulder, "Tell you what, I'll keep you company until I have to go to rehearsal."

Logan raised an eyebrow, "I thought the theatre was closed?"

Roman shrugged, "They cleared a place for us— we can't miss another rehearsal, our play's coming up soon after all."

"You're… also still in costume," noted Logan, he hadn't noticed it when Roman first came in.

Roman grinned, "Indeed my lovely Geek! Oh, would you like a wonderful demonstration of my acting?"

"Why not? I do enjoy the Twelfth Night, truly one of Shakespeare's finest work."

"Right?" Roman grinned, always glad to strike up a conversation with Logan about this, the only one in the apartment sharing Roman's interest in theatre.

Roman cleared his throat, widened his stance and placed his hand on his chest, _"I am sorry Madam, I have hurt your kinsman. But had it been the brother of my blood, I must have done so no less with wit and safety."_

"Ah, the last Act," guessed Logan.

Roman's grin grew as he sighed happily, "Oh, Sebastian has always been my favorite, that charming young man, he’s a lot like me, wouldn't you say?” Logan snorted, "Who's your favorite?" Roman then asked eagerly.

Logan hummed, "I've always enjoyed the witty, sharp characters, Maria and Feste…"

Their conversation continued for a while, until Logan felt fatigue overtake him. As Roman spoke, he let his eyes close again, just for a moment...just to rest a bit...

Logan fell asleep.

Roman had realized that once Logan had stopped making comments about the word play or subtext in the scene they were talking about. Roman smiled fondly, pulled the comforter over Logan and left quietly.

[...]

Logan woke up to _In the Hall of the Mountain King_ playing softly in the background. Logan looked at his side, a steaming cup of coffee had been placed on Logan's bedside table, courtesy of Patton, he imagined.

He then noticed Virgil, humming along with the classical music and reading a book. "Virgil," Logan rasped, coughing.

Virgil looked up, just as the music transitioned into _Ride of the Valkyries_. He nodded at Logan, Logan nodded back, his voice too weak to speak.

Logan took a sip of the coffee, putting it back down.

He laid there, enjoying Virgil's silent company and calming presence. Virgil would occasionally change the music, but otherwise continued reading.

After around an hour, Virgil stood up and nodded again, "I'm heading to the library, but I'll borrow _The Matrix_ again," promised Virgil.

_The Matrix_ was Logan's favorite film, and was one the four constantly borrowed the DVD to watch on Fridays (Friday nights were movie nights, where they rotated between their favorite movies, _The Matrix_ one of them).

"Okay," he nodded with gratitude. Virgil dipped his head and left the room.

[...]

They were all huddled in Logan’s room, watching the title, _The Matrix_ flash on the small TV. Logan was sitting on his bed —a green blanket around his shoulder— holding a slice of pizza. He still felt horribly congested, but wanted to watch the movie with his friends, so he’d decided he’d deal with being sick (there fine, he’d admitted it, he’s sick, happy?).

Virgil was sitting in the corner of the room, his knees brought up to his chest and his eyes fixed on the screen. Roman, on the other hand, was more interested by the pepperoni pizza, ravenously reaching for another slice from his place on the floor, where he laid, sprawled out.

“Another slice Logan?” Patton asked from where he sat, on Logan’s desk chair, cutting the second pizza (Margarita, his favorite).

Logan shook his head, he’d barely finished his first slice. Being sick had cut off his appetite, really the only thing he wanted to do right now was curl up in bed and sleep.

“You okay Pocket Protector?” inquired Roman, mouth full of pizza.

“I’m good enough Roman,” Logan then paused, before breathing in, “Thank you all for taking care of me, I think I’d feel much worse right now without your help or your persisting nagging about getting enough rest,” Logan admitted, looking to the floor.

“That’s what’s friends do Logan,” Virgil assured gently, having torn his eyes away from the screen.

Roman licked his cheese covered fingers, “You’d do the same for us!” he exclaimed with a beam.

“We’ll always take care of you, even if that means dragging you away physically from your work to rest,” teased Patton with a soft smile.

Logan let a small smile form on his lips, yeah, he was going to be okay.

[...]

After a few more days of Logan being sick and the four others continuing their little routine of one by one coming to his room, Logan finally recovered. The last of whatever his sickness was gone.

And he couldn’t be happier.

He woke up with a satisfied smile and for the first time in a few days, took the time to shower, shave, dress properly and comb his hair. He looked his usual presentable self, instead of that eyebag ridden homeless man he looked like when he was sick.

Logan stepped out of his room, his minty toothpaste fresh in his mouth, ready to go to work.

He walked with purpose to the living room, but immediately had to slow down as he saw what was waiting for him...

Virgil was hiding in his oversized hoodie, coughing repeatedly in his hand as shivers ran through his body. Patton’s face was pale and exhausted, dark circles decorating his eyes— he was still in his pyjamas. And Roman was sneezing and wiping off sweat from his brow, poking dejectedly at his pancake, his usual appetite having seemingly disappeared.

“Good morning,” Patton tried to sound upbeat, but ended up sounding deflated and tired.

“Oh my…” Logan shook his head, put down his bag with all his work stuff and rolled up his sleeves.

Virgil narrowed his eyes, “Don’t you have to go soon for work?” he asked wearily.

Logan shrugged, “They shall manage one more day without me, I’m afraid. I believe I’ll be busy taking care of my friends,” he smiled reassuringly, before getting to work.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a kudos if you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading and stay safe <3


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